After spending some time in his new room, lying back on the simple mat, staring up at the plain wooden ceiling while the faint sounds of the establishment carried through the walls, the distant murmur of voices, the soft rush of water, and the occasional footstep passing by in the corridor, Roy quickly realized that as much as he appreciated finally having a place to stay, he was not the type to just sit still and do nothing for long, and before he knew it, boredom had already begun to creep in.

And hunger gnawed at him.

He rolled onto his side, then onto his back again, exhaling slowly.

"...Yeah, no," he muttered to himself, pushing himself up, "I need food."

His stomach, as if agreeing, gave another low rumble.

That settled it.

He stood, stretched lazily, and stepped out into the corridor, sliding the door shut behind him as he made his way back through the now somewhat familiar pathways, the narrow wooden halls lit by soft lantern light, the warm air brushing against his skin as he walked, his steps unhurried this time, more relaxed now that he wasn’t being led around.

Fortunately, he didn’t get lost.

Which, in his current state, felt like an achievement.

Soon enough, he found himself standing in front of the common room again, the faint sound of chatter spilling out from within, mixed with the clatter of utensils and the occasional raised voice.

He slid the door open.

The scene inside was lively, though not chaotic. Most of the staff were scattered around low tables, some eating, some talking, some simply resting with tired expressions after what was likely a long shift, while a few others moved back and forth between the kitchen area and the exit, carrying trays of food out toward the main establishment.

Roy’s eyes followed them briefly.

"...So they serve food to customers too," he murmured under his breath.

That explained the activity.

His gaze shifted toward the left side of the room, where the small kitchen area was set up behind a plain wooden counter, and behind it stood the same imposing figure from earlier.

Marta Bear.

She was hard to miss.

Stocky, broad-shouldered, with arms that looked like they could bend iron if she felt like it, her apron tied tightly around her waist as she worked over a pot, stirring something with a large wooden spoon, her movements confident and practiced.

Roy paused for a moment as he approached, taking her in properly this time.

"...Yeah," he thought to himself, his gaze lingering for just a second longer than necessary, "definitely not my type."

She looked like the kind of woman who would throw him over her shoulder without asking.

Or worse.

He could practically imagine getting strangled by those thighs if they happened to crawl into the same bed and ended up doing you know what.

Roy blinked once.

"...Alright, yeah, I’m gonna have to pass on this one." Even for him, there were limits. "There are plenty of women to go around."

Still, he stepped up to the counter, leaning slightly against it as he waited.

It didn’t take long for Marta to notice him.

"Oy!" she called out, her voice loud and booming as she pointed the spoon at him, "new guy! Come in for your first meal cooked by yours truly?"

Roy smiled, straightening slightly. "If you would please," he said.

Marta grinned widely.

"Good answer!" she laughed, turning back to her pot, "sit yourself down, I’ll get you something that’ll put some meat on those bones."

"...I think I’ve got enough meat," Roy muttered under his breath, though he moved to take a seat anyway.

From one of the nearby tables, a voice called out. "Careful, if she feeds you too well, you’ll never leave."

Roy glanced over to see a woman with short silver hair lounging lazily with a playful smirk on her lips.

"Is that a warning or a promise?" he shot back.

"Both," she replied without missing a beat.

A man beside her snorted. "The first meal’s always the heaviest, brace yourself."

Roy leaned back slightly in his seat, stretching his arms behind his head.

"I’ve been eating scraps for days," he said, "I’ll take anything at this point."

"Then you came to the right place," Marta called out from behind the counter, clearly having heard him despite the distance.

A few moments later, she approached, carrying a large bowl that steamed heavily, the rich aroma hitting Roy instantly as she placed it down in front of him with a solid thud.

"Eat," she said simply.

Roy looked down.

It was a simple dish: rice, thick slices of meat, and vegetables soaked in a rich broth, nothing fancy, but it smelled incredible.

"...Damn," he muttered.

He picked up the utensils without hesitation and took his first bite.

And immediately paused.

His eyes widened slightly.

"...Okay," he said slowly, looking up at Marta, "I take it back."

She raised a brow. "About what?"

"Everything," he replied, already digging in again.

The table nearby burst into laughter.

"Told you!" the silver-haired woman called out.

Roy didn’t respond this time, too busy eating, the hunger catching up to him all at once as he focused entirely on the food, each bite disappearing faster than the last.

Marta crossed her arms, watching him with a satisfied look.

"Good, ain’t it?"

"Yeah," he said between bites, not even bothering to look up this time, "this is... really good."

She nodded proudly.

"Of course it is."

Roy barely heard her. Right now, there was only the food.

It wasn’t long before he was literally stuffing his mouth full until his cheeks were begging for mercy.

Roy ate like a man who had been starved not just of food, but of basic human comfort.

He took each bite without restraint as the rich broth coated his tongue and the tender meat practically melted in his mouth.

This was the kind of simple, hearty meal that didn’t try to impress but ended up doing so anyway through sheer satisfaction alone.

Before he even realized it, the bowl in front of him had been reduced to nothing but a few lingering grains of rice and streaks of broth along the bottom.

He leaned back slightly, exhaling as he set the bowl down with a soft clack, one hand coming to rest over his stomach.

"...Yeah," he muttered, almost to himself, "that hit the spot."